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ALBANY, N,Y. — Local cannabis consumer Silas T. Cruntheon is allegedly “willing to fill your coffers” in exchange for “three and half grams of your sweetest pipeweed leaf, my good person,” report bemused budtenders at the Higher Practice dispensary.
“Some people have an image of dispensaries as these unconventional businesses where lots of crazy shit goes down, but they really operate like any other store. It honestly gets boring,” explained Higher Practice budtender Kris Fontino. “So when a pigeon flew into our glass doors with a rolled-up parchment message that read, ‘Farthings enclosed for purchase of one eighth ounce of pipeweed, to be delivered by the obvious Mr. Wingsworth,’ and signed by a Mr. Cruntheon, I knew we were gonna have an interesting day.”
“We obviously can’t deliver someone cannabis using a pigeon — we’d get shut down that day. I think it could even be considered animal abuse to give cannabis to a bird like that,” agreed manager Tonya Lewicki. “And I can assure you, with banking laws as strict as they are for cannabis, there’s no way we’re taking gold farthings as currency. Selling herb like this would break five different laws, minimum. If this person really wanted our help they’d come into the shop.”
Dispensary regular Carlos Danbury sided with the dispensary.
“I was all like, ‘Is this real? What the fuck, man? This is pretty crazy right now, dude,’’’ recalled Danbury. “But then [Cruntheon] came in because he got tired of waiting for his pigeon — he drove there in a giant hollowed-out onion on wheels, pulled by an army of frogs. I can still smell his lavender and coriander musk.”
“If I bought weed with an animal, it’d be a hamster on a tech deck,” Danbury added, “with a mini boombox blasting 311, cruising down the street with no worries at all.”
Silas T. Cruntheon, who sent the pigeon, has no regrets.
“The townsfolk are diligent and kind, but they understand not all the ways of the world and the forest,” remarked Cruntheon from underneath a lilac, surrounded by hundreds of tumbling bunnies. “An even-burning leaf to fill the pipe? Surely, they have this, but often not a flint to light it with. And when I drive? Hogwash! Poppycock! ‘The streets are not for frogs and onions!’ they say to me. ‘Well, Earth is not for concrete bunions!’ I reply, as I puff so lazily”.
“Look, I don’t know what that shit was,” admitted the pigeon, who identified himself as “Rob.” “I am not a willing participant in this; I’m just here ‘cause he shares his weed with me… which, even though I’m asking for it, is indeed animal abuse.”
“Honestly, fuck this guy,” the pigeon continued. “My name is Rob, but does he give a shit? Nope. It’s ‘Mr. Wingsworth’ this and ‘Help me grind this foraged ginger root with your beak’ that. I thought pigeons were insufferable, but this is beyond even me.”
Mr. Cruntheon was later found trying to purchase Eye of Newt from the Lowe’s garden department.
Noah Leavy waits until the last minute to write these articles from Washington, D.C.
